Just One Orgasm!

Kylie took in a deep breath before she walked into the rehabilitation center. Her blue eyes held glints of sadness behind them, but she forced a smile.

A familiar receptionist greeted her warmly. "Kylie? Here for your mum?"

Kylie nodded with a smile.

"Come." The woman stepped out from behind the desk and gestured for her to follow.

Kylie adjusted the strap of her handbag over her shoulder. "Is she having a good day?"

The receptionist glanced at her. "She’s been calm this morning."

Kylie smiled. "That’s good."

She followed the woman down the hallway. The rehabilitation center was quieter than she remembered.

The walls were painted a soft cream color, decorated with framed photographs of flowers, landscapes, and smiling families.

Kylie had always thought the pictures were strange. Everywhere she looked, there were perfect families.

Mothers with their arms around daughters, and fathers standing behind sons. Children smiling between parents.

Nobody in the pictures looked like they had ever slammed a door hard enough to shake the walls.

Nobody looked like they had spent nights whispering harshly through bedroom doors.

Nobody looked like they were waiting for someone to come home and wondering what mood they’d be in. Like her mum always had.

Kylie looked away.

"She asked about you yesterday," the receptionist said.

Kylie’s steps slowed. "She did?"

"Yes."

A hopeful smile immediately appeared on Kylie’s face. "What did she say?"

The receptionist smiled gently. "She asked if her daughter had visited."

Kylie’s smile grew. She nodded quickly, her eyes getting moist, but she pushed back the tears.

"She’s getting better."

The receptionist didn’t answer immediately.

Kylie glanced at her.

The woman offered a small smile. "She’s having good days."

Kylie understood what she meant. She nodded anyway. "Good days are good."

They reached the familiar door.

The receptionist opened it slightly. "She’s in the sitting room."

Kylie looked through the opening.

Her mother was sitting near the window. She had a blanket over her legs despite the fact that the room wasn’t cold.

Her hair was shorter now. Much shorter.

Kylie remembered when her mother used to spend an hour doing her hair. Sometimes more.

She’d sit in front of the mirror while Kylie sat on the floor between her knees, playing with whatever hair clips she could find.

Her mother would complain whenever Kylie moved too much.

"Stop fidgeting." She would say.

"I’m not."

"You are."

"I’m breathing." Kylie remembered always defending herself.

"Then breathe quietly."

Kylie had laughed. Her mother would eventually laugh too. Those memories had become strangely precious.

Kylie swallowed. "Can I go in?" She asked softly.

"Of course." The receptionist touched her arm gently. "Take your time."

Kylie nodded. She stepped inside, and the door closed quietly behind her.

Her mother didn’t look up.

Kylie stood there for a moment, then she smiled.

"Hi, Mum." Kylie walked closer. "Guess who?"

Her mother turned, and their eyes met.

For a second, Kylie saw recognition. Or perhaps she simply wanted to.

Her mother looked at her carefully, then her brows pulled together. "Can I help you?"

Kylie’s smile remained on her.

Her mother stared harder.

Kylie placed a hand against her chest, and gave her a small laugh.

Her mother continued looking at her.

Kylie pulled the chair opposite her and sat.

"So." She crossed her legs. "I came all the way here and you didn’t even pretend to be excited."

Her mother frowned. "Do I know you?"

Kylie’s fingers tightened around the strap of her handbag. She smiled, wondering if her mum could be joking. "Yeah."

Her mother looked uncertain.

Kylie leaned forward patiently. "You do."

Her mother shook her head. "I don’t."

Kylie nodded slowly. She swallowed a lump in her throat. The doctor had told her that this day might come.

"Okay." She looked around the room. "I guess we have to start over."

Her mother continued staring at her.

Kylie pointed at herself.

"I’m Kylie." Her voice was lighter than she felt. "Your daughter."

Her mother’s expression changed. She sat straighter. "My daughter?"

"Yes."

"My daughter is..." She stopped. Her eyes moved around the room.

Kylie waited.

Her mother’s lips parted. "Where’s Randall?"

Kylie’s smile disappeared. Her fingers went still. She stared at her mother in shock. For several seconds, she couldn’t answer.

Her mother’s expression became increasingly confused. "Where is Randall?" She asked again.

Kylie swallowed. She looked down at her lap.

Her mother’s voice became more urgent. "Where is he?"

Kylie shut her eyes sharply. "You..." Her voice broke. She cleared her throat. "You lost him."

Her mother stared at her. "What?"

Kylie opened her eyes. "He died."

Her mother’s face changed. "No."

Kylie nodded. "You did."

"No."

"Mum..."

"No."

Her mother’s breathing quickened. "Where is my baby?"

Kylie didn’t move.

"Where’s Randall?"

Kylie blinked back the aching feeling in her chest. "Mum."

"Where is my son?" Her voice rose.

Kylie looked toward the door.

A nurse appeared almost immediately.

"It’s okay," Kylie said quickly.

Her mother pushed herself back against the chair. "You don’t know anything."

Kylie’s eyes filled. "Mum..."

"Don’t touch me."

Kylie froze.

Her mother pulled the blanket tighter around herself "I don’t know you."

Kylie stood completely still.

The nurse moved closer.

"Mrs...."

"She isn’t my daughter." Kylie’s mum cut the nurse off.

Kylie swallowed. Her lips trembled. "I’m Kylie." She said again. Her voice was barely audible. "Your daughter."

Her mother shook her head. "No."

Kylie nodded slowly. "Okay." She sat down again.

The nurse looked at her sympathetically. "She’s confused today."

Kylie smiled faintly. "That’s okay."

Her mother stared at her.

Kylie forced herself to keep smiling. "That’s okay."

Her mother looked away.

Kylie watched her.

There had been a time when that woman could identify her daughter’s footsteps from the other side of the house.

She could tell when Kylie was upset by the way she closed a cupboard. She could tell when Kylie was lying because Kylie always touched her nose.

She knew which side of the bed Kylie slept on. She knew that Kylie hated tomatoes. She knew Kylie would cry during sad movies and then deny it.

She knew everything.

Now she didn’t know her.

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